Sheila from Medford, MA
06/03/11 16:02 Filed in: Memories
I have lost 2 close friends in my lifetime both of whom played a significant role with me summering in Falmouth. David was my neighbor in Medford and we met when we were both around the age of 4. He was my buddy and my first kiss. There was a gang of us the same age –all part of a close knit neighborhood of practicing Irish and Italian Catholics. Every summer my family hosted a baseball game/beach day/barbecue at our second home in Falmouth for 2 of these large families and our priest. Then everything changed.
David had had major heart surgery at the age of 5 from a rare congenital condition. I’ll never forget the scar on his chest. It was translucent and began at the base of his neck, stretched taught across and down through the center of his tiny sternum. Soon after he turned 13, he was mysteriously lethargic and weak and vomited frequently. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong but his Mom worried that his growing body was rejecting the 8 year old artificial valves of his heart. His mom was right, he turned blue in the middle of one night during February school vacation and died a few hours later in the hospital.
I still have dreams about him. That we’re playing frisbee in the street or at the well-built fort overflowing with years of leaves and debris, a secret hideaway tucked squarely behind someone’s garage. After he died, we never hosted the summer event again. No more baseball games at the Morse Pond School. No more frolicking close to shore at “Family Land”, Heights beach. (After Jaws in the summer of 1975, we no longer swam out to the buoy). I wish we had carried on to honor him but back then you didn’t talk about it, suffering in silence, with the burden of grief gently fading but never quite disappearing from our heavy hearts.
Caren was my best friend who died unexpectedly last summer. We had known each other since we were 5 and became inseparable in college. We would sit at the Heights beach for hours on end sizzling with baby oil but cooling off with our chairs in the water, staring at the Casino and laughing about the silly things we had done the night before. With our friend Laurie, we loved the Brothers 4 with the multiple rooms for entertainment and awesome Happy Hours. She moved to Florida in the early 90’s. We always reminisced about those days and shortly before her death, she told her 15 year old daughter after seeing someone on “The Batchelor” from the Cape that she wanted to bring her to Falmouth some day.
I was in Falmouth on vacation when I got the call at 11:00pm, August 16, 2010. It was one week before Caren’s 45th birthday. She had a couple of glasses of wine with her mother and neighbor, went to bed around midnight the night before and never woke up (from an undetected heart problem). While swimming at Heights beach the next day, I glanced at the shore and saw two women sitting with their chairs in the water. I felt my friend’s presence, remembering with me the warm salt water guiding the rocks and seaweed over our feet as we giggled and consumed wine coolers 25 years before until finally we forced ourselves to leave in anticipation of an exciting evening ahead.
David had had major heart surgery at the age of 5 from a rare congenital condition. I’ll never forget the scar on his chest. It was translucent and began at the base of his neck, stretched taught across and down through the center of his tiny sternum. Soon after he turned 13, he was mysteriously lethargic and weak and vomited frequently. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong but his Mom worried that his growing body was rejecting the 8 year old artificial valves of his heart. His mom was right, he turned blue in the middle of one night during February school vacation and died a few hours later in the hospital.
I still have dreams about him. That we’re playing frisbee in the street or at the well-built fort overflowing with years of leaves and debris, a secret hideaway tucked squarely behind someone’s garage. After he died, we never hosted the summer event again. No more baseball games at the Morse Pond School. No more frolicking close to shore at “Family Land”, Heights beach. (After Jaws in the summer of 1975, we no longer swam out to the buoy). I wish we had carried on to honor him but back then you didn’t talk about it, suffering in silence, with the burden of grief gently fading but never quite disappearing from our heavy hearts.
Caren was my best friend who died unexpectedly last summer. We had known each other since we were 5 and became inseparable in college. We would sit at the Heights beach for hours on end sizzling with baby oil but cooling off with our chairs in the water, staring at the Casino and laughing about the silly things we had done the night before. With our friend Laurie, we loved the Brothers 4 with the multiple rooms for entertainment and awesome Happy Hours. She moved to Florida in the early 90’s. We always reminisced about those days and shortly before her death, she told her 15 year old daughter after seeing someone on “The Batchelor” from the Cape that she wanted to bring her to Falmouth some day.
I was in Falmouth on vacation when I got the call at 11:00pm, August 16, 2010. It was one week before Caren’s 45th birthday. She had a couple of glasses of wine with her mother and neighbor, went to bed around midnight the night before and never woke up (from an undetected heart problem). While swimming at Heights beach the next day, I glanced at the shore and saw two women sitting with their chairs in the water. I felt my friend’s presence, remembering with me the warm salt water guiding the rocks and seaweed over our feet as we giggled and consumed wine coolers 25 years before until finally we forced ourselves to leave in anticipation of an exciting evening ahead.
Mark from Rhode Island
03/18/11 16:25 Filed in: Memories
There isnt' a day that passes that I dont think of Jane, we had been close since we were kids. She always brightened up every ones day just with her precence. She is missed but not forgoten and I like to think of her as a perfect day in Wesport when the sun is shining and your body surfing the best waves and life is good.
Elizabeth from Oceanside, CA
03/08/11 22:53 Filed in: Memories
The song Firebreather by Thrice is hauntingly similar to how my mind screams at the "What if demon" that lives within me. In 2008, my best friend Danny had called me on April 4th to share his news. A new job… a new start… Danny always called me - every day - even when he thought he could not and would warn me that a day might go by - he stilled called. Once, he had been locked out of his house (he forgot his key) and remembering how earlier that morning he cracked open the kitchen window while doing the dishes he ran to the back of his house to see if it was still open. To his delight he popped the screen and slid open the window, jumped up and stepped into the sink working his way down to the kitchen floor. We joked how it sounded like part of that song from Lit (Own worst enemy). Danny had to share his day - every day - with me. Our phone calls were so important because I lived so far away. It was his way of coming over and hanging out ... and reminding me how much I needed to move back to Socal.
Danny did not call me on April 5th. A first. He had said he was going to stay at his Dad's for the weekend and *might not be able to call*. I understood.
Danny did not call me on April 6th. Hmmm... Ok. It was still the weekend. I understood.
Danny did not call me on April 7th. Something was wrong.
I searched my mind for a reason. "What did he say?? It was loud at when he called - maybe I missed something - maybe I did not hear him... I should have called him like I said I would have when I got home... I didn’t call him back, why didn’t I call him??" is what went through my mind.
They found Danny - he had gone to his spot where he waited for my calls - he had been waiting for me when something went wrong.
He died alone.
Unknown reason - system clear of drugs...
He died alone…
Waiting for my call. And the "what if demon" asks me every day why didn't I call.
The Murphy brothers will take you into their world. Their pain. Their happiness. It is therapeutic to listen to their minds.
Putting my haunted soul aside, The Running Waves reminded me of friends I grew up with on the beaches of San Diego. You do not have to be from the Cape, or from Mass, or even the East Coast to appreciate this book.
If you had a pulse in the 90's, read this book.
If you love John Hughes movies as much as I do, read this book.
If you ever had someone treat your heart like it was an appetizer, read this book.
Let the Murphy brothers bring the Running Waves to life - you will not be 'reading' this book - you will be Seeing, Feeling, and Tasting the Cape within a few turns of the page.
Danny did not call me on April 5th. A first. He had said he was going to stay at his Dad's for the weekend and *might not be able to call*. I understood.
Danny did not call me on April 6th. Hmmm... Ok. It was still the weekend. I understood.
Danny did not call me on April 7th. Something was wrong.
I searched my mind for a reason. "What did he say?? It was loud at when he called - maybe I missed something - maybe I did not hear him... I should have called him like I said I would have when I got home... I didn’t call him back, why didn’t I call him??" is what went through my mind.
They found Danny - he had gone to his spot where he waited for my calls - he had been waiting for me when something went wrong.
He died alone.
Unknown reason - system clear of drugs...
He died alone…
Waiting for my call. And the "what if demon" asks me every day why didn't I call.
The Murphy brothers will take you into their world. Their pain. Their happiness. It is therapeutic to listen to their minds.
Putting my haunted soul aside, The Running Waves reminded me of friends I grew up with on the beaches of San Diego. You do not have to be from the Cape, or from Mass, or even the East Coast to appreciate this book.
If you had a pulse in the 90's, read this book.
If you love John Hughes movies as much as I do, read this book.
If you ever had someone treat your heart like it was an appetizer, read this book.
Let the Murphy brothers bring the Running Waves to life - you will not be 'reading' this book - you will be Seeing, Feeling, and Tasting the Cape within a few turns of the page.
David from Falmouth, MA
01/31/11 17:54 Filed in: Memories
As soon as I read who the book was dedicated to, I knew I was in for a profound experience. The memories of the tragic loss of Marc Steele and Peter Hurd came back to me like it happened yesterday. I not only could relate to the characters and setting, but also to how tragedy affects the human soul.
I was in a terrible car accident a few years ago and was lucky to survive. I was with my old roommate and one of his buddies that he had known for years. My old roommate, Louie, and I were lucky to survive, but unfortunately, our friend, Jason Miller, was not so lucky. We hit a freak snow storm in the mountains off of Interstate 8 coming back from the Phoenix the weekend the Patriots lost the perfect season and Superbowl. The driver, Jason, swerved to avoid another car that had lost control. Because we were on a sheet of ice, we lost control and drove off the road, diagonally, and down a 400 foot rock covered ravine. It was the scariest moment of my life; I thought that was it for me. I buried my head in my lap and braced myself for the crash.
It is a miracle that I'm still here; the roof caved in over the top of us and killed our friend, but there was a small space above me still, just enough to keep me safe. My other buddy didn't have his seat belt on and was thrown from the car. He suffered life threatening injuries. I walked away with a separated shoulder and a mild concussion. I always wonder why it wasn't me that died that day and I feel lucky to be here. Not a day goes by without me thinking of that day and how fortunate I am.
I feel like I now have a second chance at life. I left a sales job that I didn’t really love and decided to go back to school to become a teacher. I’m finishing up school now and will hopefully start my new career next fall. Part of me feels like I still have work to do to help others on this earth before I go. Sometimes it takes a tragedy in life to wake us up and to get us back on the path we're meant to be on. We come out of it a new person, reborn, and we move forward. It shapes who we are and makes us stronger and better people.
I’d like to remember a Jason Miller, a great guy who left us way too soon on that tragic day. In a way part of me died that day, too, because I walked away from that accident a changed man. About a year later, Scotty O’s death reminded me again how fragile life is. I spent New Year’s partying with him at Waddy’s wedding with C.C., Heffy, and Wayne Rose. I never would have imagined that I was seeing him for the last time. Ray and Derek, guys I knew from San Diego, also died suddenly at very young age. I also thought of Shawn Creighton, a kid who I grew up with playing little league and who was supposed to sit next to me at graduation since our last names were closest together alphabetically. I’ll never forget how they carried him onto the field after the Thanksgiving game. He was such a great kid. May the memories of our departed loved ones and family live on forever through us and the words we put down on this page.
I was in a terrible car accident a few years ago and was lucky to survive. I was with my old roommate and one of his buddies that he had known for years. My old roommate, Louie, and I were lucky to survive, but unfortunately, our friend, Jason Miller, was not so lucky. We hit a freak snow storm in the mountains off of Interstate 8 coming back from the Phoenix the weekend the Patriots lost the perfect season and Superbowl. The driver, Jason, swerved to avoid another car that had lost control. Because we were on a sheet of ice, we lost control and drove off the road, diagonally, and down a 400 foot rock covered ravine. It was the scariest moment of my life; I thought that was it for me. I buried my head in my lap and braced myself for the crash.
It is a miracle that I'm still here; the roof caved in over the top of us and killed our friend, but there was a small space above me still, just enough to keep me safe. My other buddy didn't have his seat belt on and was thrown from the car. He suffered life threatening injuries. I walked away with a separated shoulder and a mild concussion. I always wonder why it wasn't me that died that day and I feel lucky to be here. Not a day goes by without me thinking of that day and how fortunate I am.
I feel like I now have a second chance at life. I left a sales job that I didn’t really love and decided to go back to school to become a teacher. I’m finishing up school now and will hopefully start my new career next fall. Part of me feels like I still have work to do to help others on this earth before I go. Sometimes it takes a tragedy in life to wake us up and to get us back on the path we're meant to be on. We come out of it a new person, reborn, and we move forward. It shapes who we are and makes us stronger and better people.
I’d like to remember a Jason Miller, a great guy who left us way too soon on that tragic day. In a way part of me died that day, too, because I walked away from that accident a changed man. About a year later, Scotty O’s death reminded me again how fragile life is. I spent New Year’s partying with him at Waddy’s wedding with C.C., Heffy, and Wayne Rose. I never would have imagined that I was seeing him for the last time. Ray and Derek, guys I knew from San Diego, also died suddenly at very young age. I also thought of Shawn Creighton, a kid who I grew up with playing little league and who was supposed to sit next to me at graduation since our last names were closest together alphabetically. I’ll never forget how they carried him onto the field after the Thanksgiving game. He was such a great kid. May the memories of our departed loved ones and family live on forever through us and the words we put down on this page.
Samantha from Dennisport
11/29/10 16:50 Filed in: Memories
It has been two years since you have been gone Papa, and I miss you everyday! You have taught me so many great lessons in life and I will continue to honor you by doing things that would make you proud!!!!
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